


Indefatigable

by Bloodpage_Alchemist



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Gen, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-12-20 20:11:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11928372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodpage_Alchemist/pseuds/Bloodpage_Alchemist
Summary: There was a time before the Ink Machine. A time where the studio thrived, when Henry set off on his own path, Joey stayed behind and Sammy...Well, Sammy's still making stupid cartoon songs, but he's not quite sure where he belongs. Should he stay or go? Does he even really have a choice at all?





	1. California Bound

_Indefatigable-adj, (of a person or their efforts) persisting tirelessly_

* * *

 

The sound of clapping made Sammy Lawrence turn. He saw the head animator, Henry, standing in the doorway.

“That tune sounded really good, Sam.” Henry gave him a grin and Sammy rubbed the back of his neck.

Henry was nice enough, though rather quiet. That wasn’t surprising; most times, he was either hard at work or with Joey Drew, the head of the studio, who spoke more than enough. Henry was often seen pushing Joey Drew onto the lift or out of rooms, much to the studio head’s displeasure. More than once Henry had requested people to get the wheelchair even as Joey would shout at them that he didn’t need the stupid chair, even as he was swaying dangerously.

Sammy had admired the animator ever since he had rigged the lift to stop and told Joey that unless he let his employees go home for the weekend, he wasn’t getting out of there...

 

_“HENRY!” Joey had shouted it._

_“WE JUST COMPLETED OVER A THOUSAND DRAWINGS IN TWO DAYS, OUR VOICE ACTORS CAN BARELY SPEAK, AND THE MUSIC DEPARTMENT’S HAD TO REPLACE TWO BANJOS BECAUSE YOU’RE BEING UNREASONABLE!”_

_It had been the first time anyone had heard Henry shout._

_“SO YOU EITHER LET EVERYONE LEAVE TODAY OR YOU’RE GOING TO STAY TRAPPED IN THERE JUST LIKE YOU HAVE US TRAPPED IN HERE!”_

_“He’s going to be fired,” Norman had whispered this to Sammy, his eyes wide._

_Sammy had nodded in agreement. Joey Drew hated being told what to do._

_The area was silent. Everyone was listening with bated breath even if they were trying to pretend they weren’t._

_“FINE! FINE, YOU SLACKERS CAN GO HOME AT FIVE TODAY, YOU LAZY, FU--”_

_Whatever other epithets and insults Joey Drew had been ready to hurl were lost in the loud sounds of the lift being activated once more._

_“Henry is my new hero,” said Norman to Sammy, who had nodded. Everyone had quickly finished for the day and left, though Sammy had noticed two people were still in the studio when he was walking towards the door: Henry and Joey. Both were still hard at work, but Henry had paused, stretching his hand and giving Sammy a smile._

_“Thanks,” muttered Sammy to him._

_“It’s fine,” said Henry, smiling before scowling at Joey. “ Some people need to be reminded that other people have families and homes to go to.”_

_“You’re dragging down my enthusiasm,” grumbled Joey, scowling back. “You never complain about working late.”_

_“I don’t represent every other employee,” pointed out Henry reasonably. “Have a good weekend, Sam.”_

_Sammy had just nodded. He hated the nickname Sam usually, but after what he had done today, he didn’t care what Henry called him. He was entitled to it._

_“Get some rest,” Henry had said to him, before returning to the easel._

_“You too.”_

 

Sammy had indeed gotten rest and things had returned to normal at the studio. Henry hadn’t been fired, which was a relief for them all, and perhaps due to the animator’s outburst and actions, Joey Drew had stopped having insanely long hours for them all.

It had been for the best. The morale had gone up quite a bit and work was being done on time despite the reasonable changes.

But that didn’t tell Sammy why Henry was down here now.

“Thanks.” Sammy stretched, “Stupid cartoon songs. Could be doing better than this, I swear…”

A chuckle met his ears, “Well, I don’t think they’re stupid.” Henry looked thoughtful, “They’re cute. Catchy. And people always smile and laugh when they’re on. Helps gives us a good balance on the screen.”

Sammy was touched, though he didn’t admit it, looking instead at the clock. “What are you doing here anyway? It’s late.”

“Just finishing up some things before I… you know.” Henry took a deep breath.

The musical director gave him a puzzled look. “Before you… what? Head home?”

Henry frowned. “He hasn’t told anyone?"

“Told what?” Sammy frowned. "Who?"

“I’m leaving the company.” Henry said it quietly. “I just finished my last Bendy cartoon today.”

Sammy was taken aback. “What?” He was stunned. Henry and the head of the studio, Joey Drew, were practically a four-armed machine. Henry was the only one in the studio who probably worked more than Joey!

The director of the musical department thought frantically about the past few days. Joey had been angrier than usual lately, snapping out about small, insignificant things. Henry leaving might certainly explain the attitude.

Though curious about why the animator was leaving, it was really none of his business. “Where are you going to go?” Sammy asked instead.

The man grinned.

“California. The techniques we use here, with our stuff, well, even though it’s always Joey’s name on everything, a few other animators learned about me. I’ll be working with a few film makers, doing special effects.”

“That’s amazing.” Sammy perked up. California was thousands of miles away but he had heard of the growing film business out there. “California’s supposed to be lovely--”

“How,” interrupted a voice, “is it amazing that my animator is leaving?”

The two looked towards the door to see Joey standing there, arms folded as he glared at them. Sammy felt awkward and a glance toward Henry showed the other man looked tired.

“Joey, it’s nothing personal. You know that.”

“Oh right. Because leaving a studio you helped create isn’t personal at all.”

“Really? Did I help create it? Because I certainly don’t see my name on anything.”

Sammy turned his attention towards the sheet music in front of him.

“And I certainly don’t have much input when it comes to what’s released, do I?” Henry’s voice was soft and low. Sammy glanced towards him, but the other man seemed worn down instead of angry. “I can’t even change how characters look without you snatching the papers from me and shouting about it.”

Joey said nothing, his eyes blazing. Sammy looked towards Henry once more, the animator standing straight, facing Joey, his eyes just as fierce.

“So. The truth finally comes out.”

Joey’s voice was soft and low, a tone from him that Sammy had never heard before.

“It’s not like that.” Henry's voice was still soft, but not as upset as it had been moments before.

“But it is. You don’t think you get any recognition.” Joey’s hands had balled into fists. “I thought getting the work done was more important than worrying about credit, that good work speaks for itself, isn’t that what you always said? I offered and you--”

“Some acknowledgement and trust in my proven skills and abilities is not unreason--”

_“It is when you're supposed to be my partner!”_

The room was strangely silent after these words. Sammy swallowed hard, feeling awkward; Henry was looking embarrassed. He seemed strangely flushed and Sammy was surprised. Had anyone known that he had turned down such a promotion?

“I don’t want power, Joey.” Henry said it quietly. “I don’t want to be co-lead or anything. I just wanted some say, some recognition. The work’s more important than that, yes, but the work isn’t everything.”

Before Joey could retort, Henry turned and patted Sammy on the shoulder. “I’ll send you a postcard.” He moved to leave out of the music room before pausing and looking at Joey. “I’ll send someone with your wheelchair to the lift.”

“I don’t need the stupid chair or your pity,” snapped Joey, despite leaning heavily on the wall, his bad leg painfully obvious.

“Take care, Henry,” said Sammy quietly, trying his best to not look at Joey, though he could feel the cold hard stare towards him.

“You too, Sam.” Henry smiled at him before leaving.

A glance towards Joey showed he was watching Henry. The musical director would have had to been blind to not see the conflicting emotions on Joey’s face, though the most prominent one seemed to be… yearning. Sympathy swept through Sammy for the briefest of moments before Joey turned around, his eyes fixed on Sammy.

"How close are you two?" It was a snarl, surprising Sammy.

"J-Just the usual, you know, co-workers," said Sammy, feeling very much like a mouse being eyed by a lion.

Joey's lip curled, his eyes not moving from Sammy's. His heart thudded. Was Joey's temper going to cost Sammy his job too? Should he chase after Henry and ask him to go to California?

Actually, that thought had a bit of appeal to it...

“Him abandoning the studio doesn’t mean anything.” Joey snapped this, breaking Sammy from his thoughts. “Finish your music. We have work to do.”

With that he turned and left, Sammy noticing the man’s gait becoming worse. A growl emanated from Joey as the lift door opened. Within it sat his wheelchair and Sammy quickly turned back to the sheet music, even as Joey’s loudly voiced disdain for the wheelchair and Henry’s annoying meddling reverberated through the halls.

At long last it was quiet and Sammy sighed, glad for the reprieve. He stared at the sheet music before looking up toward the ceiling. He hoped Henry would succeed.

“California, Here I Come,” sang Sammy softly, remembering the Broadway tune. He smiled, the thought of the song giving him a brief pause before he picked up his pen and began to write his next piece.


	2. In a Sepia Place

“ _Another_ rendition of Time to Sleep?!”

Sammy Lawrence was, to say the least, irritated.

“Sheep sheep sheep… BAAAAAAAAAAA.” Sammy tossed the papers onto the nearest music stand before settling on a chair nearby.

The studio was a dull place to work. Sepia and drawings cluttered the walls, the emphasis on work being obvious. Sammy grabbed his favorite instrument, a tenor banjo, before he began to strum. It was easy to ignore the rest of the world when he had his banjo in hand, focusing on the strings and song. It was an uplifting, cheerful tune, and he ended it with quick strumming.

“Gee.”

Sammy turned to see Norman gaping at him. “You’re really good with that!”

“Just a hobby.” Sammy shrugged and placed the banjo back. He turned to see Norman fidgeting, as if nervous. “What is it?”

“Joey wanted to see you. In his office.”

Dread coursed through Sammy. Given how anxious Norman seemed, he doubted it was for anything good.

“Better not keep him waiting, huh?”

“I… I think that’s a good idea,” said Norman quietly.

It was a long trudge up to the first floor. The lights in the stairwell flickered as Sammy finally reached Joey’s office. He knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in.”

Stacks of papers were on the desk, the drawers, storyboards filled the walls. One thing no one could say about Joey Drew was that he was a slacker; the work here was insane. Hundreds upon hundreds of pages spoke as to his long nights and early mornings. A coffee machine sat in the corner, the only thing with color in the room besides Joey, the envelope he was holding in his hand and the one that Sammy caught a glimpse of on his desk.

The envelope in Joey’s hand caught his attention once more, because Sammy saw his name neatly written on it. Someone had turned the envelope into a canvas for art and it was resplendent, a bevy of quails running around a green strewn landscape with all sorts of flowers and plants fitted in.

“This came for you.” Joey’s voice sounded disturbingly calm. “From California.”

Sammy frowned. He didn’t know anyone in California. Who would write to him from there?

And then the answer struck him, like a bolt of lightning.

_Henry?_

He had really sent something? He had left nearly a year ago, Sammy had forgotten all about him.

“I--”

“Personal correspondence should not come to the workplace. I don’t want to have to tell you this again.”

Sammy wanted to point out the envelope sitting on Joey’s desk, but he refrained. He was very curious about what Henry could have sent. “Of course, sir.”

Joey held out his hand and Sammy quickly took the envelope from him.

“Right, well, I’ll get back to--”

“Open it.”

The tone left no room to argue. Sammy paused for a moment before weighing his options quickly, in his head. Getting Joey Drew upset would likely cost him his job and for the many headaches the man gave him, he did pay well. Getting another job in the area for similar pay would be difficult, if not impossible.

Repressing a sigh, Sammy opened the envelope. A few photographs fell out and he couldn’t help but marvel at the photos of a beautiful bridge, of different city streets and what looked like parks and ocean, what looked like movie studios… The blue of the ocean and sky, the glinting of metal all around the streets…

A small card fell out last.

 

_Sammy,_

_You were right. California is amazing._

_Don’t let Joey work you too hard!_

_Sincerely,_

_Henry_

 

Sammy read and re-read the words, a slight smile on his face. Looking up, he saw that Joey’s face was impassive. His hands, however, told a different story. Sammy noticed Joey’s hand tracing the return address on the envelope that was sent to him.

“Did he send you pictures too?” Sammy asked it quietly.

Joey gave the slightest of starts, his eyes narrowing before he opened his mouth. Abruptly, he closed it before opening the envelope.

Some photographs spilled out, of the city streets, of different plates and of strange storyboards Sammy had never seen before. Sketches, paintings, news articles… all sorts of things had been neatly crammed into the envelope. A small bottle fell out, tightly screwed on, that looked like a sort of liniment.

As the head of the studio frowned, picking it up, Sammy saw that there was a letter penned to the other man sticking out from the envelope.

 

_Joey,_

_I’ve been hardly able to sit still ever since arriving here. It’s amazing, the energy here. And the studios! There’s so many of them!_

_You really should consider relocating. The business here is thriving. Plus, well, I..._

 

He couldn’t make out the rest; it was still inside the envelope. As Joey turned his attention to it, Sammy slowly left the office.

Once he was back in the music department, he lined up the photographs, staring at them. They were so bright, so beautiful that it made his heart ache. The sight made him look around at the sepia walls; Henry was far away, further than anyone in this drab place could dare to dream.

But for a moment, Sammy felt the walls melt away. He knew putting up the photographs would cause trouble; they would go home with him tonight.

Yet for today… just today… he placed them up, propping them on the wall.

Brightly, they gleamed in the light and Sammy found himself smiling despite the repetitive nature of the songs he was singing.

This was the best day he had had at work for some time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The banjo solo I had in mind when Sammy was playing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPOcibxurg4  
> Thank you!


	3. Sound of an Angel

“Mornin’ Mr. Sammy sir,” said Wally, the janitor that had been hired a few months before. He was quite accident prone and today was no exception as he went to wave at Sammy and ended up falling over his mop and bucket. His loud complaints made Sammy chuckle as he walked inside.

His first stop was the break room. Coffee needed to have a holiday set aside for it. Sammy wanted to cuddle his mug of the bitter drink; it certainly worked for waking him up.

He had been out late at a jazz club, playing on stage. Admittedly, he was a bit smug; he had earned a standing ovation and calls for more.

“WERE YOU BORN THIS STUPID OR DID YOU WORK REALLY HARD AT IT?!”

Sammy nearly choked on his coffee. Joey was screaming from a room nearby. Someone had truly earned his ire. Knowing it would be better to ignore it and walk away, Sammy picked up his mug.

“HOW IS RUNNING OFF TO JOIN A WAR IN ANY WAY THE RIGHT THING TO DO?!”

The slow walk was because he had caught sight of Joey. He was sitting in the wheelchair, but Sammy could see the phone in his hand, the cord stretching to the heavy base on the desk. The musical director moved as silently as possible, sticking to the darkened parts of the corridor.

“I’M NOT YELLING!” Joey hit the handle of the wheelchair with his fist in obvious frustration, his teeth gritted. “FINE! YES I’M YELLING! WHAT DOES IT MATTER?!”

Sammy took a breath of relief; he had just crossed the open door. A growl sounded from Joey.

“I AM CALM.” Joey’s voice was loud but the shout was quieter. “I am.” Now he sounded normal, though hoarse. “I am, Henry, don’t hang up. I’m fine. I’m calm. I am.”

Henry?

Sammy couldn’t help himself. Even thousands of miles away, the other man managed to get Joey angry. Henry was gifted at that, it seemed.

“Luck? You want me to wish you luck? Hell, I’ll wish for a miracle, because that’s what it’s going to take if you’re going out there. You’ll need an angel. I’ve heard the reports and you have too. How can you be this--I’m not insulting you, I’m telling you like it is!”

The reports of war were grim. Sammy did his best to ignore the radio and newspapers that shared the grim tales of the specter of battles that loomed. People dying, rumors of all sorts of horrible things going on, the constant bombings…

Who would willing go there?

Thoughts of the war went away when Sammy picked up his banjo once more. There were songs to write. His day passed normally until the evening, as he was leaving. He glanced past Joey’s office… and paused. There were rough sketches of another character that he had never seen before.

It was of a very cute character, something that honestly, Sammy didn’t think Joey capable of designing. The little halo over the head made the musical director blink.

An angel?

Well, though it was odd, it made sense, in a way. An angel to their signature character’s demon.

Or an angel to watch over someone going to war. Sammy thought back to the conversation from earlier. Perhaps designing something he had control over was the way Joey was going to cope with the news.

Sammy was the only person who wasn’t surprised the next day when Joey showed the character to everyone. He was, however, surprised at how quickly the cute angel had been designed. She was going to be scandalous, that much was obvious. She showed a lot of skin and from the designs, was rather flirtatious.

“Susie has been kind enough to agree to voice Alice Angel.” Joey looked towards Sammy. “I want good compositions for her. That’s your main focus as of today. Susie will be working with you so you can get a feel for the pitches.”

“Y-Yes sir.”

Sammy looked around to see a lovely young woman. She blushed, walking towards him. He knew she was relatively new to the studio, but Sammy was surprised that he didn’t know much else about the woman.

“Well, I’m Sammy. Sammy Lawrence.”

“Susie Campbell.”

“Well, we’re… we’re going to see a lot of each other, so I guess we should get started.” Sammy indicated the stairwell. “Come along.”

The young woman beamed, quickly following behind Sammy, humming cheerfully. They reached his work station and he indicated the musical scales.

“Let’s get a feel for your pitch. Just sing the scales, don’t strain or anything.”

Even her simple “Do, re, me” was lovely. Sammy could see instantly why Joey had chosen her to voice this new character.

The complexity of the numbers immediately grew in Sammy’s mind and he picked up a pen and a blank sheet of music paper.

It took a bit, but Susie had an excellent range of pitch and Sammy was quite excited. The songs were going to be excellent.

The days passed and though Sammy tried his best to focus on work, other things crept in. Small assignments for jingles to buy war bonds, but that was work. His main distraction was thoughts of Susie’s smile…

Even the banjo couldn’t help him, most days, not with her sweet voice and smile…

He had it bad.


	4. Future Possibilities

****Whenever Joey was doing voice work, the department was as silent as possible. The only sounds were those of the voice actors.

Sammy hated having to be present when Joey and Susie did voice work. Anyone could see that she was stressed when Joey was there, and Sammy couldn’t blame her. Alice Angel had quickly taken center stage; people were requesting figurines and posters of the character.

Truthfully, Sammy wondered if there was resentment and envy there; Joey himself voiced Bendy, after all, the flagship character. To be overshadowed by another character that had such a high demand that the studio could hardly keep up with it… Sammy didn’t want to think about it.

The rattling of the lift shook Sammy from his thoughts and made him nearly groan aloud, though he refrained from this just in time. Who was idiotic enough to make such a racket? Indeed, Joey’s stance had already gone rigid.

Before the man could stop their recording, Sammy went outside of the area to give the person a piece of his mind. If Susie had to deal with Joey’s wrath, someone was going to face Sammy’s.

A soldier stood there, Joey’s wheelchair in front of him. He had on the dress uniform all army members donned when not on the field, the dark brown a stark contrast to the light brown trousers. The cap on his head was at a slight angle, because he had wiped at his brow with the back of his hand.

Sammy stared at the soldier, wondering for a moment what a member of the service was doing at the studio and how he had gotten in. His anger at the noise was temporarily overridden by his curiosity.

The man indicated the recording area, Sammy turning. He could see Susie looking towards them with obvious interest. She blushed slightly as the soldier smiled at her. Joey was facing her, heavily leaning on his good leg, but Sammy saw his hands clenching.

“What is so important that you missed your cue, Ms. Campbell?” Joey’s voice was dangerous.

Anger filled Sammy and before he or the stricken-looking Susie could speak, the newcomer did, loud enough to be heard in the recording booth.

“You swaying and hurting your good leg because you’re about to collapse due to your stubbornness, I’d say.”

Joey turned, looking ready to fight before he stopped, his eyes fixated on the soldier. He wasn’t the only one; Susie was still staring too. Sammy felt a twisting in his gut as he watched her look at the other man.

The corridor was silent for a moment.

“I thought you’d go straight to California,” Joey was the one to break the silence first, though he hadn’t removed his gaze from the other man.

California?

“ _Henry?”_ Sammy asked this incredulously, turning back around to stare at the other man.

The former animator chuckled, “Do I look that different?”

“I never--you just… I don’t know, it’s just… the uniform and you and… and…”

“See? Even Sammy thinks it’s a bad look for you,” said Joey, moving slowly to the door of the recording booth. “You should never have gone off. What are you doing here anyway?”

“We had a stop. Refueling and all of that. I had leave and wanted to visit.” Henry pushed the chair forward and gave Joey a dangerous look, hefting a dark blanket up as he pointed. “In.”

Joey scowled, glaring at the chair before huffing a sigh and sliding into it. Henry moved forward, neatly covering Joey’s legs with the blanket. He smoothed out the blanket with neat, well-practiced precision before he stood. The man looked towards Sammy and Susie as he moved back behind the wheelchair, his hands resting lightly on the handles.

“This is Susie Campbell. She voices Alice.” Joey indicated her. “This is Henry. He co-founded the studio before abandoning us because of his California dreaming.”

“That doesn’t sound biased at all, does it?” said Henry mildly, giving Susie’s hand a polite kiss. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” said Susie, looking pleased.

Henry turned to look at Sammy, “You’ve done some great songs, Sammy. They… well, when we heard them, it… it was a bit like home. I wanted to thank you for that.” He looked at Susie and Sammy, smiling, “You two are fantastic together.”

“I think we are too,” Susie looked pleased.

Sammy felt his eyes growing moist and he blinked, looking away for a moment to gather himself. “You’re welcome. I’m glad they helped.”

“Wouldn’t have _needed_ help if he hadn’t gone,” muttered Joey.

“Mhm,” agreed Henry mildly, pushing the other man towards the lift.

“Work on your cues, Campbell,” said Joey. “We’ll finish up tomorrow.”

“Oh stop it. It’s not her fault, you know if you had been the one facing that direction you would have been the same way,” said Henry.

Whatever Joey retorted, the two couldn’t hear over the sound of the lift.

Susie looked towards Sammy. “Was he really the co-founder of the studio?”

“Henry? Well, I know he was lead animator,” said Sammy truthfully. “He’s nice. He spoke up for us and made sure that Joey was fair. You know, let us leave on time, things like that. He was… well, he was worse than he is now.”

The young woman looked thoughtfully towards the lift. “He must have been important to Mr. Drew, if he’s still upset that he left.”

“He was the best animator we had.” Sammy wished they could stop talking about Henry. He hadn’t liked the way Susie had looked at him.

“But Mr. Drew didn’t even argue with him about the chair,” said Susie quietly. “And he stopped our session. I think he misses having his friend here.”

Sammy said nothing. He didn’t want to try and get into the enigma that was Joey Drew’s mind.

“I’m glad he liked our songs,” said Susie, smiling brightly at Sammy.

“Well, I mean, that’s mostly because of you,” said Sammy, feeling himself turning red. “You’ve got a gift.”

The young woman laughed softly, her eyes bright. “Don’t be silly. We work together.” Susie paused, tilting her head, “The session was the only thing we had to do today, wasn’t it?”

Sammy nodded and the words burst out of him. “Would you like to go to the soda fountain?”

He wanted to kick himself the moment the words had left his mouth. He heard footsteps above them, loud ones punctuated with the sloshing of water and then Wally’s grumbling about stains.

“I… W-With you?”

Sammy couldn’t speak. He just nodded, looking at the sepia walls.

“I... I think that would be wonderful,” said Susie, making Sammy look at her with surprise. She was bright red but looking at him determinedly.

“Well… let’s… let’s get going then. They… they make great egg creams.”

The two walked up the stairwell, Susie waving at Wally, who waved back before slipping slightly on the floor he was mopping.

“If he loses his keys again…” Sammy frowned as they walked past.

“He just gets nervous,” said Susie, giggling slightly. “I still do sometimes.”

They reached the first floor and noticed Joey’s office door was open a crack.

“--by hand still?” Henry’s voice sounded surprised.

“You’d know how we operated if you had stayed here,” said Joey’s voice gruffly. “What’s it like at your new animation studio?”

Susie had paused, listening. Sammy wasn’t sure if he should try and convince her to go or let her listen. Well, the woman worked with Joey a lot. Given that act alone without her killing him yet qualified her for sainthood in Sammy’s mind, he stopped. They had all day and the soda fountain wasn’t going anywhere.

“I don’t work in animation anymore.” Henry’s voice was quiet. “I told you that when I left. I went into special effects. I assist directors in movies and the like. I see other studios, and take tours, that’s how I know what’s still going on.”

Joey was silent a long moment.

“You’re telling me you haven’t worked on a cartoon in years?”

“Since I left here.” Henry chuckled, “But yours is the only studio that’s clinging to the old ways.”

“We don’t need any of that rubbish.”

“You just don’t want to learn new technology. You were the same way when I mentioned color cartoons and now look.”

“Would having that technology bring you back here?”

“You are persistent, aren’t you?” Henry laughed. “How about this. You’re the most brilliant person I know--”

“I admit, flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Hush you.” Henry sounded amused. “You designed lots of techniques, all of that. You do something completely new, something I haven’t seen yet, I’ll convince the production team to let me come here, learn the techniques and we’ll get a Sillyvision film out. A full-length feature and before you ask, yes, Joey, I’ll help with every step of it, including the animation.”

“A business proposal, then?” Joey sounded interested and Susie looked at Sammy excitedly. “What do you get out of it?”

“I think with the proper marketing, animation would be extremely profitable in film.” Henry sounded excited in the way only someone that was truly passionate about something did. “It’d be hard thinking of a story but I’ve seen that it can be done. We just need something to catch everyone’s attention…”

Sammy gave a slight start as a hand lightly slid over his own. Susie smiled at him and tugged him along. He followed without protest as they left the studio together.

“Do you think he could do it?” asked the woman when they were outside. “A film?”

“It’d take a lot of work,” said Sammy as they walked together. “But well, Mr. Drew’s a workhorse, so maybe?”

Their walk was brief and though it was quiet, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Sammy paid for their drinks and they watched their egg creams get made, milk added first, then the seltzer water and finally the chocolate syrup. The white foam at the top had the straws standing perfectly straight and Sammy had to resist smiling as Susie’s eyes lit up.

He placed his arm around her tentatively as they sat at the window and smiled as she rested her head on his shoulder and leaned against him. Both were content to enjoy the other’s company, the delicious egg creams and simply watch the world outside pass.


	5. Unwelcome Advancements

Progress was never easy, that much Sammy knew, but he had usually accepted changes in his life without much fuss.

This, however, was too much. Joey had recently made renovations to the studio, which would have been fine if not for the insane amounts of pipes had installed as well as various gears. For what machines these gears were for, Sammy had no idea. And the pipes! They rattled and dripped not water, but ink!

Even now, he hunched over his work, trying to shield it from the dripping. He was going to go insane from the noise or the drips, he didn’t know which one. 

Everyone hated the noise and constant messes. Sammy was sure this was some new innovative thing that Joey was cooking up and though the man’s ideas could be eccentric, they hadn’t failed yet. At the same time, he had never just begun making changes; before Joey had always given warning of them and explained what was going on, so that production would continue on as even a keel as possible.

This? Sammy had no idea what this was but it was leading to a lot of arguments. Norman didn’t seem to understand how badly the noise was affecting most people. It was frustrating; Sammy was the one that needed to write the music, and Norman and the band played it. Perhaps their music covered the noise for them, but certainly not for Sammy!

He crumbled up another piece of paper, his hand shaking. He couldn’t think, not with the pipe rattling over his head...

A warm hand gently settled on his back before gently moving upwards, rubbing his shoulders and upper back in soothing, small circles. The softest notes of rose, jasmine, citrus and vanilla reached Sammy’s nose and he smiled. He knew that scent and touch; he tilted his head back to see Susie looking at him sympathetically.

Though his temper was dangerously close to flaring up a lot lately, the one thing Sammy absolutely did not want to do was take out his anger on Susie. Between her and his music, he didn’t know how he would deal with the hours of constant noise…

“I didn’t see you at lunch,” she murmured it gently, moving her other hand upwards, rubbing his shoulders and neck. 

“I wanted to take advantage of the band being at lunch for some quiet,” murmured Sammy, his eyes fluttering closed, enjoying her touch.

“It really is horrible, all of that rattling.” Susie sighed, “I wish Mr. Drew could have made things a little more quiet.” 

Sammy nodded in miserable agreement.

“I made you a lunch.” Susie stopped her light massaging and sat down, taking out a small lunchbox, and Sammy felt himself slowly smiling. He pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, making Susie turn a light pink.

“You’re too good to me.” 

“You work hard to make music for everyone in the worst conditions.” Susie looked up pointedly at the pipe that had just begun to drip on Sammy’s crumbled paper. “You deserve better than this.” 

He had opened the lunch box to find a cold meat pastie with an apple. For the first time, he realized he was indeed quite hungry, and he looked at Susie gratefully. “Thank you.” He took a bite and gave a delighted muffled groan. It was delicious. 

As he ate, he noticed a bruise on Susie’s arm. He stopped, his eyes on it. 

“What happened to your arm?” Sammy’s voice sounded strange even to himself. He gently moved Susie’s arm, turning it to see that there were a few very ugly bruises. It looked as if someone had grabbed her.

“A… I was offered work at another studio.” Susie whispered it. “They were quite… passionate in their request.” 

“When did this happen?”

“Outside of the studio. When I was coming to work.”

Sammy said nothing for a moment before abruptly standing. “Come on.”

“What?” Susie stared at him. “Sammy--”

“We’re going to Joey.” Sammy was already gently ushering Susie in front of him. “He’ll make sure there’s a guard or something.”

Though Susie looked ready to try and convince him otherwise, Sammy gave her a stern look before heading towards the stairwell. Susie sighed and followed after him, intertwining his fingers with her own. Sammy smiled at her as they continued their walk.

Soon, they were near Joey’s office, but they could hear him speaking.

“--Ink Machine.”

Silence for a bit.

“What do you mean the name? That  _ is _ the name. The Ink Machine.” Silence for a second. “What do you mean, where did I get it? Why does that matter? It’s going to revolutionize things!This is not just like when we went to Massachusetts for my leg! And you agreed to not bring that up again!”

Sammy and Susie shared looks here; neither wanted to interrupt. No doubt Joey was on the phone again.

“My leg is fine! Don’t worry about my leg, I wanted to tell you about the Ink Machine! Everyone here is fine, the machine is making things--what do you mean, you’re worried about our missing deadlines? ”

The only sound that Sammy could hear was the rattling of the Ink Machine in the nearby room.

“... I didn’t take you for someone to indulge in gossip.” Joey’s voice was soft, hardly audible over the noise of the machine. “People talk. They always have. You know better than to think they could be right. Everyone here is fine. When you come here, you’ll see the Ink Machine for yourself and stop worrying.”

A loud pop echoed through the hallways and Wally’s shout of, “IF ONE MORE PIPE BURSTS, I’M OUTTA HERE!” made Susie giggle helplessly and Sammy rolled his eyes. Wally was always complaining. The musical director felt that if the man made half as much of an effort in remembering his keys as he did at grumbling, the studio floor would likely be clean enough to eat off of.

“You go ahead. I can hear people asking if they can burn the city yet. I don’t even want to know what you Hollywood people are doing…. Oh right, because burning a model city is  _ so _ much better… yes, you take care too.” With that, they heard the loud clattering of the phone being placed back in the cradle. 

Sammy didn’t hesitate; he knocked on the door to the office immediately.

“Come in.” Joey sounded calm and looked curious as they both entered. “How may I help you?”

Susie wrung her hands and Sammy spoke, explaining what he had been told.

“So, I was hoping perhaps you could find protection or something around the studio,” finished Sammy.

Joey drummed his fingers, looking thoughtful. “I think  _ something _ will definitely have to be done. Something powerful enough to make them regret coming near the studio…” the man trailed off but his eyes blazed with a cold flame. “I’ll look into it. Have no fear, Ms. Campbell. They will not trouble you again. I will see to it.”

From the grim look on his face, Sammy had to admit, he didn’t envy the competition.

They left Joey’s office, Susie frowning, a concerned look on her face.

“What is it?”

“Just… what Mr. Drew said. Nothing about guards or anything…” 

“Don’t worry,” said Sammy confidently. “He won’t let anything happen. It might not be something we’re expecting, but you’ve seen how Joey is. If he says he’ll do something, he’ll find a way to make it happen.”

Susie just nodded, though Sammy could see she still seemed concerned. 

“I’ll walk you home and here,” Sammy said, making Susie look at him with surprise. “Between the two of us, no one will bother you again.”

The younger woman blushed before nodding. “Thank you. I’ll have to find something to thank Mr. Drew with too. He’s here late every night, maybe he’d like more of that Bacon Soup.”

“I swear that stuff must run through his veins with how much of it’s stocked here,” muttered Sammy, shaking his head as they returned to his office together, a can of Bacon Soup prominently displayed on a shelf as they passed, a puddle of ink in front of it.

What was this studio coming to?


	6. Capsizing and Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING!**   
>  **Information gathered from Chapter 3 will be prevalent here and onward.**   
>  **Please do not read if you do not wish for spoilers from Chapter 3.**   
>  **Thank you!**

Sammy rubbed at his eyes, exhausted. The studio somehow felt much smaller now, despite the fact it had expanded. Morale was at an all time low, with some wisecrack putting up mock coffins to show they were "dying inside."

Given how Joey hadn't commented, it made Sammy wonder if the man agreed. He was always going on about believing in things and achieving them, but sometimes Sammy just had to wonder...

"Don't know _what_ he's doing in there!" Norman's voice was loud and irritating. Audible even over the sounds of the machines and gears and pipes... "Ms. Susie, you okay?"

Susie?

Sammy stretched and left his small sanctuary. Susie was standing there, a distressed look on her lovely face. The members of the band and Norman Polk stood by as well, the band sharing awkward looks.

"What's wrong?" Sammy asked it instantly, frowning.

"About time!" Norman glowered at him. "I've got work to do, Sam!"

Sammy glared right back, "If by work you mean stroking the projector inappropriately--"

A member of the band snorted with laughter as Norman gritted his teeth, narrowing his eyes at the poor sap. He stormed into the other room, the band right behind him. Sammy shook his head and wrapped an arm around Susie's shoulders.

"What is it?" He asked it gently.

"You remember I told you Mr. Drew wanted to go to lunch?"

Sammy nodded. He hadn't felt comfortable with it, but he trusted Susie.

"He was really nice and everything, but..." Susie pressed her face into Sammy's shoulder. "He even called me Alice."

"You really do like voicing her," said Sammy, lightly ushering Susie forward.

He wasn't expecting her to start sobbing.

"Susie?" Now Sammy was very worried. "What is it?"

"Mr. Drew..." her voice was tight and she swallowed hard, looking plaintively at Sammy. "He said I wouldn't be voicing Alice anymore."

Dread coursed through Sammy. Susie _loved_ being the voice of Alice Angel.

"Maybe he'll change his mind." Sammy said it desperately, wondering how the man running the company could be foolish enough to let anyone go.

Perhaps Susie knew his fear because she managed a smile. "I'm still working here, Sammy. Just not as Alice. But... I felt so right voicing her. Like it was meant for me."

Sammy didn't understand that, of course; Alice Angel was a cartoon. Even as Susie stood smiling at him, Sammy managed a smile back, but he wondered what the fixation on a cartoon character could mean. "Well, let's at least finish what we have for you."

Susie sniffled but nodded determinedly.

At the end of the day, Sammy lingered behind. He wanted to talk to Joey. Someone certainly had to. He made his way out of his office and heard muttered swearing.

A moment later, Sammy saw the source of the noise. Wally was cleaning up a mess of flooded ink on the floor as Thomas stood on a ladder nearby. Some of the swears the other man was muttering, Sammy had never heard in his life.

It was impressive.

“What is the problem here?” Sammy asked it softly, noticing immediately that Wally’s keys were missing from his belt.

Both men gave slight starts and turned to look at Sammy.

“M-Mr. Sammy, I didn’t hear you, all this noise…” Wally gave a feeble grin. “Nothing wrong, sir, just doing our jobs.”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong,” said Thomas, indicating the pipe. “It’s dark, it’s cold and I don’t know what idiot he got to install these pipes because they’re not meant to go through this much pressure! Every day another pipe breaks and Mr. Joey Drew doesn’t even bother replacing them with proper ones! And now the lift’s acting up! We don’t have time for this!”

“I’ll stick with taking the stairwell,” said Sammy, moving around the two.

“Telling you, this place isn’t normal…” Thomas muttered it grimly as he returned his attention to the pipe.

Sammy kept walking but silently, he agreed with the man. A few moments later, he found himself outside of Joey’s office. He knocked on the door lightly.

“Come in.”

Sammy opened the door and closed it behind him. He noticed Joey seemed thinner and paler than usual. Perhaps the early morning, late nights and subsisting on nothing but coffee and bacon soup were taking its toll.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” said Sammy, doing his best to stay calm, “but I am the musical director here, aren’t I?”

Joey rubbed his temples tiredly, “I thought I’d see you here sooner. Ms. Campbell--”

“Is the perfect fit for Alice Angel and you know it. You even called her Alice at your luncheon!”

The studio head looked quite taken aback for a brief moment, though it was something Sammy had never seen before. Pure unadulterated shock on that face.

“She told you we had a lunch date?”

“Of course she did.” Sammy frowned at him, “I am the musical director here and you decided to make a massive change to the structure of our program without even consulting me?”

“I am the studio head.”

“You’re so busy with that stupid machine that the studio’s falling apart around you and you don’t even care.”

The office was deathly silent, only the sound of gears and pipes audible. Joey stared at Sammy before huffing a tired sigh.

“Ms. Campbell’s singing voice was one of the highest complaints. It’s why a lot of merchandise isn’t selling. People think her character is cute but there are multiple complaints about the voice not fitting.” The studio head held up his hand to forestall Sammy’s protests. “I disagree with them, and I’m sure you do too.”

“Yes, I do!”

“Unfortunately, I have to do what’s best for the studio.” Joey gave a strange smile of sorts, “She _is_ Alice. Embodies every aspect that makes Alice who she is. But audiences don’t see it that way.”

“Well, what are we doing then? Just… just stopping Alice as a character?” Sammy felt sick.

Joey shook his head, “Ye of little faith. You need to believe in me, Sammy.” The man smiled, “Have I let you down yet?”

Sammy said nothing. As of yet, insane though Joey Drew seemed, the man was brilliant. Their company would have gone under years ago if it had been anyone else in charge. The paychecks had never stopped either…

“Okay. I believe in you but you need to have a plan or something.”

“I do. Tell me, have you met Ms. Alison Pendle?”

Slowly, Sammy shook his head.

“She’ll be voicing Alice Angel from now on. Susie will be assisting me with… other matters.”

“What other matters?”

“That will be shared with everyone in the studio when necessary,” said Joey simply, returning his attention to the mass of papers on his desk. “Is that all?”

Sammy frowned. “Why when necessary? Why not before--”

Joey stretched, tilting his head to peer at Sammy.

The two shared a long look, the seconds ticking. The awkwardness stretched on.

Finally Joey sighed. “Sammy, I am asking you to have faith in me and my decisions. I know it seems strange, but I assure you, everything is going as planned. It’s taking longer than I would like, but it’s getting there. Just believe.”

Sammy felt a strange sensation crawl down his spine at this, but why, he didn’t know.

“Do you believe in me, Sammy?”

Joey was looking directly at him once more, a steely look in his eyes.

The room felt smaller, somehow darker. The loud rattling that Sammy always heard in his office somehow seemed magnified. The loud sound of another pipe bursting, the noise, the ever present _noise…_

Slowly, Sammy nodded.

The room seemed to return to normal as Joey smiled brightly at him.

“You’ll start work with Ms. Pendle tomorrow. I’m glad we had this talk, Sammy. Really. And don’t worry about Alice. She’ll be just fine.”

Sammy nodded and left the studio.


	7. Concerning Issues

“I… I’m really sorry, Mr. Lawrence, but I can’t hit these pitches.” Alison was blushing brightly, looking beyond humiliated. “It’s just... I’m an Alto and these are more for a Soprano…”.” 

Sammy felt a headache coming on. “Can’t you change pitch? What’s your voice range? Alice Angel is a singer, she’s got to have a wide range of abilities!”

Alison said nothing.

“This is hopeless. As if my job wasn’t hard enough.  _ Thanks _ Joey.” Sammy glared at the new voice actress. “Go work on your pitches. We’ll try the theme song again later.”

Sammy didn’t say anything as the woman nodded and quickly left the booth. He didn’t feel the least bit guilty despite hearing the tiniest of sniffs over the loud sound of the pipes.

He had just crumbled his latest work, knowing there was no point in bothering with his usual style, when a voice spoke quietly.

“She didn’t ask for the job, you know.”

Turning quickly, heart pounding, Sammy saw Norman standing there, frowning at him.

“Don’t sneak up on people like that!” Sammy heaved a sigh, “Honestly…”

Norman gave a shrug, “I’d apologize but we know I wouldn’t mean it.”

Sammy repressed the urge to throw the crumbled paper at the other man. “What do you want?”

“Just that. Alison didn’t ask for the job. Mr. Drew went to her. She was singing the blues for Wally and Thomas, they were complaining about the radio not working. He heard her. You’re good with the blues. Use it.”

“Why do you even know that?” Sammy scowled at him.

Norman shrugged, “I get around. See things. She’s a nice girl.”

“So’s Susie.”

Another shrug was the reply.

The urge to punch Norman rose in the musical director but before he could comment, the door opened. Wally stood there, mop in hand.

“What’d you do to Ali?” He looked indignant, walking into the room before tripping over his untied shoelace and crashing into a nearby drum.

“That’s expensive, you oaf!” Sammy was on his feet instantly, checking over the drum.

The janitor made a face, “I’m fine too, Mr. Sammy. Thanks for checking.” He stood up, stretching before frowning at his shoelace and sighing, bending over to tie it.

“Of course you’re fine,” muttered Sammy, rubbing his temples. He could feel a headache coming on. Whether it was from work, Norman, or Wally, he didn’t know.

He moved the drum to a corner before feeling something drip on his head. 

“Do something about this ink instead of complaining!” He snapped this at Wally, moving the drum to another place.

The other man scowled at him, which surprised Sammy. Normally Wally was keeping far away from him.

“I don’t get you.” Wally threw up both of his hands. “Yeah, the place’s got problems. But you got a good job, you make some of the best songs ever, we got some great cartoons, so why do you gotta be so miserable all the time?”

“You think these are good songs?” Sammy choked on his laughter. “They’re--”

He broke off, giving Norman an indignant look. The tall man had just lifted his hand in the universal sign for silence.

The softest scuttling of footsteps could be heard. Over the arguing with Wally, Sammy hadn’t heard it at all. Sharing looks, the three turned towards the door. Slowly, Norman moved behind the door, as Wally opened it a crack.

Nothing was there.

“... First Ali crying, then the drum and now this,” muttered Wally, looking all around. Sammy peered over his shoulder too.

Nothing.

He looked towards Norman, whose eyes flickered around as well. The man frowned.

Norman slowly stood next to Sammy, his eyes on the walls and shadows before abruptly shutting the door. The quick movement made Sammy jump and Wally yelp and move his hand quickly.

“What’d you do that for?” Wally demanded, waving his hand and blowing on his injured finger.

“That’s Mr. Drew’s walk.” Norman’s voice was very soft and very low. “Can tell. He drags his leg.”

Sammy and Wally shared looks.

“So?” Sammy said it with a shrug. This was Joey’s studio, after all. And they had nothing to hide.

Norman was silent a moment.

“Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.” 

His voice was soft and low, but unmistakably heard, even over the soft dripping of the ink and loud gears all over the studio.

“Who… Who’s Den?” Wally whispered this back, his eyes wide and fearful.

Sammy pressed his forehead to the palm of his hand. 

“It’s a saying,” explained Norman. “It means that something is wrong.”

“You couldn’t just say that in the first place?” Wally made a face. “What’s wrong?”

Norman frowned and Sammy looked towards him, curious. Even he had to admit, Norman was very intelligent and observant. He didn’t look upset or even angry…

He seemed… afraid.

“It’s something Mr. Drew’s doing. I don’t know what it is.” Norman said it finally. “I was going to talk to him and he was… arranging those things he made everyone give him.”

“The old gods an’ stuff,” said Wally. “That’s what he said.”

Sammy shook his head. “Look, it might be a bit strange, but Joey hasn’t let us down yet.”

Norman frowned once more. 

“Well, I don’t know. But I’m not going to get into trouble down here. I’m gonna find Ali. And you two… cheer up a little, will ya? Swear, all you people are so gloomy and stuff. Makes me wanna get outta here.”

With that, the janitor left the room, moving quickly up the stairs.

“If that was Joey, where is he?” Sammy muttered this in a low tone to Norman, looking all around the area.

The man walked into the hallway, his eyes on a cutout of Bendy that served as cute decor, and on a statue of the character. “... Making his way around, likely. He has his eccentricities…”

Sammy shook his head. “I’m going to go look for Susie.”

“... Be careful, Sammy.” Norman’s voice was pleading. “She’s upset and things here are so volatile, anything can happen.”

Sammy just nodded and went to go find Susie. No doubt she would be upset for his having a hard day, but probably pleased that she was still the best fit for Alice Angel.

Though he looked all around the studio, he didn’t find her at all. Recording with Alison was frustrating and Sammy was relieved when his work day was over, but he was concerned when he couldn’t find Susie at all. 

Where could she be? 

Sammy frowned and decided to go have dinner. He would pay a visit to Susie’s home after, just in case. No doubt she wanted to leave early after the disappointment of being removed from voicing a character she loved.

His self calm shattered when he went to her apartment after dinner.

“No,” said the landlady, a concerned look on her face. “She never came home.”

Sammy found himself going back to the studio, the only place he could think of Susie being. She hadn’t been in the voice acting area or anywhere else when he had looked earlier.

Perhaps he was overreacting, but he was sure that Susie was still inside. Perhaps she had just lost track of time. Sammy certainly did when he was trying to work with all those distractions!

Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Sammy used his key to let himself into the closed studio and had just started down the stairs when a gruff shout echoed throughout the corridor, coming from the break room. 

Instinct took over as he ran towards the sound, hoping desperately all was well as he ran.


End file.
